


What if Will had Pulled the Trigger on Hannibal...And Nothing Happened?

by PussNHikingBoots



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal is persistent, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Sexual Harassment, Teasing, Will is annoyed, Will is released from prison, Will tries to kill Hannibal, knife/blood talk (not much), parsley gets chopped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-20 05:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1498732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PussNHikingBoots/pseuds/PussNHikingBoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Context: Will has just been released from prison. He shows up at Hannibal's house to shoot him, but this time he actually pulls the trigger. But nothing happens–it turns out there are no bullets in the barrel… (I was a little confused when I first saw the preview for this episode. I assumed that Will did indeed pull the trigger and that somehow Hannibal had found the gun beforehand and taken out the bullets. So this idea formulated in my head, which was later dashed when I watched the actual episode.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An idea to consider

**Author's Note:**

> This is my VERY FIRST piece of fanfic eva! (Well, the first one I'm posting publicly. I've written plenty in my head.)  
> I would just adore any feedback, comments, suggestions... and I'm open to co-creating a continuation of this story if anyone wants to play with me. I'm also open to prompts. 
> 
> I'm terribly new to all this fanfic stuff, so please don't eat me if I'm rude.
> 
> BTW: Why didn't Hannibal shut the fridge door? That man is OCD about his kitchen. Gun to his head, or no- he would have SHUT THE FRIDGE!
> 
>  
> 
> I do not use beta, so please send any errors/corrections you may find to: pussnhikingboots@gmail.com

Suddenly, Will is scared, terrified. Eyes flitting to gauge a viable escape route. Hannibal smiles at this in response. “Will, I will not hurt you. Not unless you force me to.”

Will realizes that Hannibal is telling the truth. He could have killed him many times over by now. Will is in no immediate danger. He sinks into the nearest chair at a small round kitchen table. Hannibal waits for him to settle, then sits opposite him. "I missed you, Will,” he states.

Will speaks slowly and deliberately. “What for? You had Alana Bloom to keep you company.” He stares into Hannibal's eyes, his emotions seething just below the surface. Hannibal says he won't hurt him but he already hurt him plenty when he pulled that move.

“Alana has been a pleasant distraction, it's true. But she is no substitute for you.” 

Will considers the possible implications of that. “Well, she'll have to do, because I'm not going to have sex with you.” He spits it out, angry and sarcastic. Something in Hannibal's face lights up out of curiosity. He tips his head up towards Will. “I had not considered that,” he says with an odd delight in his voice. Will is confused. Hannibal gazes up and to the left in contemplation, then closes his eyes for a moment and takes a long, leisurely breathe as if sniffing something in his own imagination. Then he opens his eyes, looks directly at Will, and says “That's nice. I think I would enjoy that very much.”

It takes Will a moment to understand what just happened. 'Shit!' he thinks to himself. 'Don't give him any ideas.' “No, no – no way!” he protests. “F-f-first of all, you are a psychopathic murderer, so that's not happening. Plus, I'm not gay.”

"I'm not gay, either,” says Hannibal matter-of-factly.

What happens next truly scares Will. Hannibal rises from his chair and slowly walks around until he is standing directly behind Will. He places his hands on Will's shoulders and leans in close to his left ear. He whispers slowly and seductively, “Man. Woman. It does not matter to me. I am only interested in: can this person give me pleasure and do I want to give them pleasure. Gender is irrelevant.” 

Will is barely tolerating the hot breath at his ear. His body is coiled and shaking with protest, ready to spring in fight or flight, he's not sure which. Hannibal continues to nuzzle at his ear, brushing his lips gently along the outer ridge, pausing to pull a little at the lobe. His hands keep a firm grip on Will's shoulders – a signal that he will not let Will up, but he will not hold him down either. He waits for the exact moment he feels Will's resolve lighten just a hair, then Hannibal stands up straight, removes his hands and walks back around to the other side of the table. 

“You have given me something to look forward to, Will,” Hannibal says smiling. 

“Don't count on it,” Will answers bitterly, practically bursting up from the chair. 

But Hannibal is counting on it – calculating his next move even as Will is storming out of his house, not bothering to shut the door.


	2. A legitimate Technique

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is having trouble accessing his empathy, so Hannibal comes to his house to give him a massage. Just a little teasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will may be a slut, but Hannibal is such a tease.
> 
> I don't see the essence of these events being too far from possibly happening on the show. Why would Will allow Hannibal to his house after just having tried to kill him? Well, that's already canon- so no worries there.
> 
> And it's already happened several times on the show where Hannibal has made strange overtures to Will who passively accepts them with only mild protest or none at all.

By the next day, Will has managed to push the incident out of his mind far enough to believe that it warrants no further attention from him. He goes about his day, dawdling for most of the morning, and after lunch, takes his pack of strays out for a long, leisurely walk along the river bank. He thinks about bringing his fishing gear, but doesn't think he will have time for that. The FBI is experiencing a much welcomed dry spell of new killings, so Jack has pulled a stack of cold case files and sent them home with Will to see if Will can glean anything from them. Will wants to get home with enough time to get through a respectable amount of files. When he returns to his house he starts a fire in the fireplace, feeds his dogs, and waits for them to settle by the warm flickering, tired and content. Will heats a cup of instant soup for his own dinner and sits down at his little wooden desk to work. 

 

He puts on his glasses and spreads the files out before him. He flips one open, reading a few random sentences and looking at a photo, but getting nothing. He moves on to another file; still nothing. Will feels lost, as if his gift of empathy has all been just in his imagination and that really he doesn't have the ability to do anything with these files. He feels like a huge joke to the FBI. His phone rings. "Yes Dr. Lecter?"

 

"Will, I was just speaking with Jack. He told me that he gave you some cold case files to work on. I believe I might be able to help you with those. May I come over?"

 

Will hesitates but realizes that it would be nice to have the doctor's help, especially considering that his sense of empathy does not seem to be working at the moment. "That depends. Are you going to try to hit on me again?"

 

Hannibal chuckles on the other end, "Are you going to try to kill me again?"

 

"No... not today."

 

"Then I will see you in a bit."

 

By the time Hannibal knocks on his door, Will has managed to shuffle most of his files into disarray. His glasses are off and he's staring blankly at the wall in front of him. “Come in,” he calls. 

 

Hannibal enters the door and closes it behind him. Will's dogs gather around and Hannibal gives them a cursory pat on their heads, enough to appease them so they will lie back down. He does not mind the dogs, in fact he really likes and admires animals, but he has little interest in interacting with them. These dogs are tolerable to him mostly because they are Will's. Hannibal takes off his coat and hangs it on a coathook by the door. He walks over to the desk, gathering up a chair from against the wall to sit down next to Will. He picks up a file, but he doesn't open it. He just looks at Will for a very long time. Will is starting to get uneasy and finally glances Hannibal's way without really looking him in the eye. "What?" he demands.

 

""You are struggling with your empathy today, aren't you Will? You are unable to connect with any of these cases."

 

"Yeah." Will is more than a little disturbed that Hannibal actually knows that, but does not want to give him any fodder by asking how. "May I suggest something?" asks Hannibal.

 

"I guess," says Will, dubiously.

 

"The mind must always be our servant and never our master. In return we must nurture that servant if we are to get the best from it. You cannot expect your mind to work for you without rest anymore than you can expect an employee to work for you without rest. My guess is that you have been sitting at this desk too long and your mind has checked out. I can try some techniques on you that will help you to reengage your mind by relaxing your body first. Once you are fully relaxed, your mind will kick into play again." 

 

"I haven't been sitting at this desk all that long. In fact I took a walk this afternoon. A long walk. My mind should be perfectly clear. I'm not sure why I'm not connecting with this."

 

"Then that is all the more reason to try this," says Hannibal.

 

"What do you propose, Doctor?" Will is a bit amused – curiosity getting the better of him. 

 

"Stand up and come have a seat in this chair by the fire. This is your favorite chair, correct? You will be comfortable here?"

 

"Yes." Will says, again shaking off Hannibal's creepy level of observation. He gets up and walks over to his chair, sinking into its familiar cushion. 

 

"Now, close your eyes and take some deep breaths." Hannibal guides Will to breath in slowly and then out slowly for more cycles than Will has patience for. Then he takes Will through some guided imagery meditation and when he is sure that Will is preoccupied with that, he moves around to Will's back and starts to gently massage his shoulders through his thin T-shirt. It feels good, and Will doesn't think much about it. It seems like a legitimate technique, though Will is well aware that Hannibal has no qualms about using illegitimate techniques. 

 

Hannibal increases the pressure and works his way along the muscles in Will's shoulders and the back of his neck, circling his thumbs up into the base of Will's skull. He moves his fingers to Will's temples, circling firmly and then works them through Will's scalp, seeming to find every little spot of tension needing to be released. It feels wonderful and Will can't recall the last time anybody gave him a decent massage. He lets himself indulge in it.

 

Hannibal gently guides Will's body to lean forward in the chair so that he can knead his fingers down either side of Will's spine, pressing into the tiny muscles there and pausing wherever he feels a knot to work out. Occasionally, he stops to smooth out the T-shirt where it has bunched up from the movement. He flattens his strong hands and runs them along Will's back, down and then up. He forms his hands into loose fists and rolls his knuckles into the taught muscles beneath Will's shoulder blades. Will is making little grunting noises. Hannibal has stopped his meditative banter by now and is simply massaging Will's body. 

 

Hannibal moves to the side of the chair and extends one of Will's arms outward. He wraps his fingers around Will's bicep, kneading and massaging. He works his way down Will's forearm, gently rotating the skin as he does. “A little massage oil would make this even better. I apologize for my lack of foresight.” Will just answers with, “mmm.” Hannibal picks up Will's hand and presses into the meaty parts of his palm, then gently tugs at each finger and works at the webbing in between. Will's eyes are closed and he is truly lost in the sensation; really enjoying himself. Hannibal moves to the other side and gives Will's other arm the same treatment, kneeling by the chair with one knee up and resting Will's hand on his knee while he works in between his fingers. 

 

Hannibal is eyeing Will carefully. He notices that Will's eyes are closed and his breathing is relaxed and steady. He has the faintest whisper of a smile on his face and he appears to truly have let go of all the tension in his body. Hannibal is pleased. He picks Will's hand up from his knee and raises it to his lips. Then he sucks Will's index finger into his mouth. Slowly, he circles his tongue around it and runs his teeth lightly along the pad of the finger tip, eyes on Will. He thinks he hears Will's breath catch just a little before Will's eyes spring open. Will lifts his head and turns it slowly to look at Hannibal and this time he does not avoid eye contact. "Hannibal, you said you were not going to hit on me." But even as the words are leaving his mouth, he remembers that Hannibal said no such thing. Hannibal closes his eyes in response and sucks even more enthusiastically at WIll's fingers. Will watches him with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. He has to admit to himself that the sensation Hannibal is producing in him is not at all unpleasant. Still, Will narrows his eyes in irritation, pulling his fingers from Hannibal's mouth. "Oh for the love of God, Hannibal. Is this going to be a _thing_ with you?"

 

Hannibal releases the finger. "I enjoy a challenge," says Hannibal rising from his kneeling position. "Now, let's see if you're up to the challenge of tackling those files again."

 

"That's supposed to be what you're doing here – helping me with the files. I would like to be able to tell Jack at least _something_ tomorrow morning. Even just one piece of information that he didn't have before would be helpful, otherwise what's the point of me working for Jack? I don't want him paying me for nothing." 

 

“Then let's see if I helped,” Hannibal says. 

 

The two men go back to the desk and Will is surprised to find that his empathy has returned in full force. He moves the stack of files to the side, pushing them into a neat pile, and takes just one out to focus on. He opens it and immediately starts to receive images and feelings from a photo clipped to the top. Then he passes the file on to Hannibal who looks it over and gives additional input. Another couple of hours pass before Hannibal announces his departure. He stands and lifts his chair to return it to it's rightful place against the wall. "I must be getting back." He walks a step closer to Will then places his hand on the top of Will's head. Running his fingers through Will's dark curls, he says in a rather romantic tone, "I enjoy working with you very much, Will." He continues to run his fingers through Will's hair until Will cringes from his touch, "God sakes, Hannibal – stop!"

 

Hannibal chuckles again, leans down and presses his lips to the side of Will's ear. "There are many things that I have in mind for you, Will, but all in good time." Then he gives Will a rather obvious deep inhale, and leaves the house, plucking his coat from the hook on his way out. Will is left sitting in the chair staring at his files, Hannibal's words still burning in his ears.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a gleeful Hannibal continuing to poke at an irritated Will.   
> I love the idea of Will starting to bend.  
> I already have a 3rd chapter in mind…


	3. A book for Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is at it again, this time in the library.

The next morning, Will arrives at FBI headquarters earlier than usual. He is excited to tell Jack about his insights on the cold cases. Last night's session was particularly productive, and though he hates to admit it, he's sure it is because of Hannibal's unorthodox technique. Jack is impressed and takes careful note of everything Will tells him. Will is almost certain that there is a book in the FBI library that will shed even more light on one of the cases, and he tells Jack that he is going to go fetch the book. 

The library is vacant of anybody besides himself. Will starts combing the stacks for the author's name. He sees the book he's looking for on the shelf above his head and reaches up, placing his fingers around the spine and top of the book in order to tip it forward and pull it down. Before he can do so, he feels his body being firmly pressed up against the bookshelf and both his hands being enclosed by another's hands – one over the hand that is holding the book and the other over the hand down by his side. By the musky, spicy scent, he knows that it is Hannibal. 

'Here we go again,' he muses to himself. Sure enough, Hannibal bends his head into Will's neck and begins to nuzzle, sliding up to Will's ear, darting his tongue inside and sucking the lobe into his mouth, then slowly releasing it. Will is captive to the treatment as he is plastered against the bookshelf by Hannibal's body and has little room to maneuver without getting violent. 

Will doesn't say a word but wiggles his neck around in a vague attempt to dodge Hannibal's mouth. He realizes it is futile and will only prolong Hannibal's attentions, so after a moment, he holds still. Hannibal continues to nuzzle and lick at the left side of Will's neck and ear and up onto his temple and down as far as his collarbone – wherever Hannibal's mouth and tongue have access without the use of his hands.

Without even realizing it, Will has tilted his head slightly to the right giving Hannibal greater access to the left side of his neck. Now Hannibal is really going at it, sucking and mouthing fiercely, pulling WIll's skin into his mouth. Surely there will be suck marks tomorrow, Will thinks. 'Great, just what I need.' He'll have to wear a turtleneck to hide this from Jack. Will is perfectly still, enduring Hannibal's administrations, and without his consent, his body starts to respond. 

Will's breathing gets just a little bit heavier, his eyes close, and his pulse quickens. Hannibal can feel all of this and paces the movement of his mouth to match Will's responses. Will is starting to feel fuzzy and warm. He can feel his cock starting to fill, and he absolutely hates himself in that moment. Hannibal continues to nuzzle and gnaw, and Will lets out an involuntary groan, "Mmmphf." The moment that he does, Hannibal releases his hold, backing away, but not before he pulls the book that Will was reaching for from the shelf. He flips it open and starts babbling something as if what just happened between them hadn't happened. Will turns and stares at Hannibal in something like disbelief. He hopes to God that the marks on his neck will not show immediately when he has to go back to Jack's office. He wishes he had brought a scarf with him. He could at least pretend to be cold. 

Will turns to Hannibal and puts his hand out, "May I have the book please?" Hannibal looks up at him, holding his gaze longer than necessary, closes the book and places it in Will's outstretched hand. Will glares at him for a moment and then leaves the library to go find Jack.


	4. Just a whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal whispers something dirty to Will.

Will was prepared to spend a very productive day at work, but now he finds that he has already been to the men's room four times to check the development of the mark on his neck. So far, it is just showing red like it could be a rash, but he knows in a couple more hour's time it will be looking more and more like what it really is. He can't keep talking to Jack from his right profile only. He asks if he can take some more files and the book home with him and Jack is obliging, seeing as they have no crime scenes to attend today. Will is grateful to be able to go home, knowing that he can show up at work tomorrow wearing a turtleneck. 

He shoves the files and the book into his bag and walks out to his car. Walking to the driver side, he first opens the back door and swings his bag onto the floor behind the driver seat, then he opens the door and gets in. Just as he's sitting down, he realizes that Hannibal is sitting in the passenger seat. He almost gets out of the car again but decides against it. Instead, he pulls the door closed, lets out a sigh, and without turning to look at Hannibal asks, "What now?"

"Don't worry, Will. I won't keep you long." 

Hannibal leans over and slips his hand in between Will's thighs. Into WIll's ear, he whispers slowly in his peculiar accent, "Tell me Will, when my body is pressed up against yours, and my hot breath is on your neck… does it make you hard?" 

Will swallows, continuing to look straight ahead. He does not say a word. He is wondering if Hannibal knows. He couldn't possibly know, could he? He can feel the heat creeping up his neck onto his cheeks and he wants to duck his head and hide, but he refuses to move. Hannibal takes all of this in, not missing any telltale signs. He looks at Will approvingly, gives a little smile, pats him on the thigh, and gets out of the car, shutting the door behind him.


	5. A Ceramic Knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal prepares dinner for Jack and Will.  
> Unbeknownst to Will, he asks him to come over earlier than Jack.  
> Hannibal is a bad boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there is a Police reference in here.

"Jack isn't here yet, I see," says Will, entering Hannibal's foyer and giving a wary look around. It's Friday, and Hannibal has invited both of his friends to dinner that evening, giving the men two different arrival times. While Jack is looking forward to it, Will only accepted with a fair amount of trepidation. "No," says Hannibal, "but that's just as well. I still have some preparing to do in the kitchen. You can help me with that." 

Hannibal takes Will's coat and hangs it up, and Will follows him into the kitchen. "Please wash your hands before helping with the food," says Hannibal and Will does so. "You can chop the parsley." He sets Will up at a cutting board and hands him a large bunch of the fresh herb and a white knife. "It's already been washed and dried. All you need to do is chop." Hannibal places a slight emphasis on 'chop.' Will turns the unusual knife over in his hands questioningly. “Ceramic,” says Hannibal. “Metal can cause the edges of the herbs to brown.” Will goes to work on the parsley and Hannibal busies himself pulling down from a cabinet various spices to measure, and butter from the fridge to let soften at room temperature. After a few minutes, he walks up behind Will, pressing his body up against him the same way that he did in the library. Will stops chopping, irritated. "Doctor. Don't stand so close to me." 

"You're the one holding the knife, Will. If you wanted to hurt me you could hurt me very badly." 

"What makes you think I don't want to hurt you?" asks Will, tipping the knife upwards in a steady grip.

"I know you want to hurt me." Hannibal says in a hushed tone. "In fact, I'm thinking right now about how you would hurt me. I would hope that you would use the knife slowly and judiciously, running it along my skin and opening me up every few inches – in tiny slits. Then I imagine that you would use your teeth to make such perfect wounds more ragged, maybe dip your finger in to gather up some blood and hold it to my lips. Demand that I lick it off. I would lend you my scalpel for this work. It's a more precise tool."

Will is unsure how to feel about the imagery presented to him. On his own, this would probably make him sick, but with the force of Hannibal's imagination locking into his mind, it's turning him on. Again, against his will. On top of that, one of Hannibal's hands has crept down to his side over his stomach and lower still to his crotch. Hannibal is gently, maddeningly moving his thumb back and forth along the seam at the groin, brushing over the swell of one of Will's testicles with each pass. Will cannot help but respond to this, nor can he hide his condition this time, and he knows Hannibal can feel him growing underneath his hand. 

"Hannibal," Will says more breathlessly than he had intended. "Now you're not playing fair." 

Hannibal smiles into Will's hair. "All's fair in love and war, my Will," he says. Hannibal's body is once again positioned to make escape difficult, but Will doesn't try to escape this time. Instead, he goes back to chopping. Hannibal undoes Will's jeans and slips one hand inside. Will does his best to focus on the parsley, but he's clearly in danger of slicing his fingers. Hannibal moves his large hand over all of Will's private parts as if checking the terrain.

Hannibal reaches his left hand out and gently wrests the knife from Will. Will's eyes go wide and a pang of fear grips his chest. But then he relaxes again as he watches Hannibal slice a thin layer of butter before replacing the knife in Will's hand. Hannibal returns his hand to Will's pants, clutching the butter. He slides his palm over Will's shaft, pressing the pad of butter around it so that it begins to melt very quickly under the body temperature. "I'm not sure how you like it just yet, but I'm going to err on the side of caution." He says.

Will is trembling. He closes his eyes, mouth parted, and involuntarily leans back against Hannibal's chest. The butter is completely melted now and Hannibal is moving easily up and down the oiled shaft. He strokes Will with a firm, sure hand, listening for the change in Will's pulse and breath. Hannibal does not miss the worried look Will flashes towards the kitchen entrance. "We have time Will," Hannibal assures him. "Jack is a prompt man. He won't be here for another fifteen minutes. Aren't you looking for a release?"

"Hannibal." Will mumbles a halfhearted protest as his pulse kicks up a notch and Hannibal increases his strokes to match. He presses his ear to Will's neck, his other arm holding WiIl across the chest as he strokes. Will is gripping the countertop now, the knife having clattered free to the cutting board. He pitches forward, his muscles tensing, his breathing becoming uneven. Hannibal can tell he is getting very close and suddenly he stops the strokes. "Don't move. I'll be back in one second," says Hannibal. Will's eyes pop open. He grits his teeth in frustration and anger and something like relief but before he has time to move away from the counter, Hannibal is back against him and his hand is back down his pants. He has a cloth napkin in the other hand holding it strategically and he says to Will, "I want to keep things clean for you. I would not want you to be uncomfortable all through dinner." Will can do nothing but sigh and slouch back against Hannibal's chest as he is once again being stroked to ecstasy. His knees start to buckle and sounds escape his lips that he cannot stop. "Oh God, I'm.. uh…" Now his body is convulsing as he shoots his load into the cloth. Some of Will's cum is dripping down the back of Hannibal's left hand and this Hannibal brings to his mouth and licks off, deliberately enough for Will to hear each lap of his tongue. Will hangs his head, suddenly feeling ashamed. 

Hannibal steps away from WIll, leaving the kitchen to toss the soiled napkin in with the laundry and when he returns, he washes his hands thoroughly before working with the food again. Will quickly does up his pants just as the door bell is ringing. "That would be Jack," says Hannibal. He gives Will a wink and goes to answer the door.


	6. A Clear Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is worried that Hannibal is no longer going to sexually harass him.
> 
> Finally, the heartwarming conclusion: A fanfix for heartbroken Fannibals everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending makes me smile. I hope it makes you smile too.
> 
> Enjoy, leave kudos and comments. I accept both positive and negative cannibal criticisms.  
> I do not use beta, so please send any errors/corrections you may find to: pussnhikingboots@gmail.com

After the evening of the parsley and the butter, Will doesn't hear from Hannibal. He gets a lot of work done at the office and in the field, helping Jack with both new and cold cases. He spends a lot of time fishing and walking with his dogs through the woods around his house. Life feels like it is returning to normal; or as normal as his life gets anyway. Will tells himself that he is relieved, happy that he does not have to deal with Hannibal's harassment any longer; but he can not stop thinking about that evening. Hannibal's strong hand, warm butter melting around him, Hannibal's tongue at his ear. At night, he lays in bed, hard, thinking about the butter, and masturbates himself to sleep. More than a week has gone by, and he wonders where Hannibal is. What is he doing? Why isn't he calling? And then he wonders why he should care, but he doesn't let the answer come because it scares him too much.

The tables have turned and Will doesn't like it. Hannibal was the one who was pursuing Will, but now he doesn't seem to want him anymore. Was it all a game to him? Once he got his hands down Will's pants, was that it – he won the game and now he no longer has any interest in Will? The thought makes Will red with anger. And then angry at himself for being upset about Hannibal's absence. From the start, he hadn't wanted any of this. He didn't even like men that way. So why did he find himself so upset at the thought that Hannibal might no longer be interested in him? His thoughts turn to soft, slippery butter. It was just a hand job for Christ's sake. It didn't mean anything. But it felt so good and it _did _mean something. Will is certain of that.__

When Hannibal was touching him, he had felt a warmth and affection coming from Hannibal that was beyond sex. It felt like Hannibal actually cared about him. Maybe loved him? He can't allow himself to think that. As desperate as he is to be loved by somebody, it can't be Hannibal. The thought makes him shudder. And it thrills him. He rubs his face in confusion. He has to go to work and he doesn't want to think about Hannibal anymore. 

Will meets up with Jack at the latest crime scene. It is a particularly gruesome scenario, with none of the hallmarks of the Chesapeake Ripper. This killer is far less sophisticated than Hannibal. 'God – I can't stop thinking about him,' thinks Will. Jack already knows it isn't the Chesapeake Ripper, so there's no need for Will to bring it up. Sicker still, Will can't help thinking that Hannibal would've done a much better job – cleaner, more organized, and more impressive. He feels dirty thinking like this. He wishes, briefly, that he could wash his brain and laughs out loud, inappropriate for the situation at hand. Jack glares at him but doesn't say anything. He's used to Will's strange outbursts. Will ponders how he could possibly be physically interested in this man that he knows to be a killer. But there it is – he is interested. It seems that Hannibal has won after all. 

Processing the crime scene is taking a while, and Will is happy for the distraction. He tries to keep Hannibal out of the conversation, if not out of his thoughts, but Jack is the one who brings it up. "Do you know where Hannibal is?" asks Jack. "This is the third time this week I've called for him but he hasn't shown up. I tried calling him earlier, but he's not answering. It's not like him. He's very prompt about returning calls." At this, Will feels a pang of concern. He's not sure if he'd be more relieved to hear that Hannibal can't respond because something has happened to him or because he is avoiding Will. "He hasn't talked to me either. I suppose he's been busy," Will says with his eyes averted. Jack shrugs it off. Between the two of them, Will is usually the one more helpful at the crime scenes, although Hannibal does contribute some interesting input with his own kind of specialized knowledge. 

Will gets home late, stopping for Chinese takeout on the way. He feeds the dogs and lets them out, splashes his face with water, calls the dogs back in, and climbs wearily into bed. Out of habit, he briefly goes over the day's work in his head to see if he can piece anything else together, but his thoughts keep returning to Hannibal and he frowns. 'I suppose it's better if I just get over this now and move on. I'm being wooed by the Chesapeake Ripper and I think it's a good idea to reciprocate? I know I'm fucked up, but this is ridiculous.' 

He is lying in bed, fighting the urge to indulge in Hannibal fantasies when the dogs stir. They give a few barks to announce a visitor. It must be somebody they know or they would be making a bigger fuss. There's a knock on the door and Hannibal calls from the other side, "Will? Are you there?" Will's heart starts racing. He calls out to Hannibal to come in, not bothering to get out of bed. The door is unlocked as usual and Hannibal lets himself in, removing his coat and placing it over the back of the nearest chair so that it is folded precisely in half. He walks over to Will, looking down at him laying on the dingy bed. Will's home has a second floor but, in contrast to his mind, he prefers to keep his life contained; his bed on the first floor with the fireplace and the kitchen. Hannibal glances around at the furnishings and purses his lips in distaste, but does not say anything. He does not wish to be rude. 

Hannibal sits on the edge of the bed and looks down at Will but does not touch him. "Did you miss me, Will?" He asks. Will gives a little chuckle and Hannibal does not miss the note of shyness in it. Very different from the response he would've gotten a week ago. "After our last encounter, I wanted to give you space," he says. Will is shocked at this as Hannibal had previously seemed to want to give him no space. "I figured you might be feeling a little conflicted and I wanted you to work your feelings out. Is that process complete for you?"

Will rolls onto his back to look up at Hannibal. He nods uncertainly. "I was – concerned. When you didn't call. I thought… I didn't know what I thought. I don't know what I think. I don't know how I feel," says Will, eyes flitting briefly to Hannibal's as he speaks, but unable to hold contact for longer than a fraction of a second. 

"I believe your confusion can be cleared up quickly," says Hannibal. "Would you like me to guide you out of this confusion?"

"Yes," says Will, expecting an impromptu therapy session.

Hannibal leans towards him, slowly, giving Will ample time to react, but Will only follows his motion with mild surprise. It does not escape Hannibal's attention when Will furtively licks his bottom lip. Hannibal gives no indication of noticing and continues his slow descent towards Will's face, placing his hands on either side of Will's body to support himself as he lowers down. Will is nervously glancing from Hannibal's eyes to Hannibal's lips, but it is no longer within his framework of responses to turn his head or try to flee. Though he makes no sound, Will's body feels like a sigh as Hannibal's lips make contact with his. His eyes close instinctively and he accepts the soft kiss offered to him. Will's arms remain at his sides, his body inert, but he works his mouth, moving his head slightly to return Hannibal's kiss with the same level of gentleness that is offered to him. They kiss for a long moment. Finally, Hannibal pulls away from Will's lips, opening his eyes and reversing his descent. Will keeps his closed for a moment longer. 

Hannibal speaks softly, "Are you still confused about your feelings, Will? Because I thought that that was very clear."

Will smiles up at him, reaching out to rub his hand warmly up-and-down Hannibal's arm. "I think it was clear," says Will, "but just to be sure, kiss me again."


End file.
